Thin Ice
by AMarguerite
Summary: Narcissa Black falls through the ice on the lake, Snape is tormented as always, and Lucius Malfoy shows that there is such a thing as Slytherin loyalty. Everyone skates on very thin ice before the first war. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Written after and influenced by Deathly Hallows, but no actual spoilers.

Disclaimer: Not JKR. Do not own.

* * *

Gwenog Jones stamped her feet impatiently and blew on her hands. "Oi, Cissy, you done with your make-up yet?"

Narcissa smoothed her platinum blonde hair back into its fashionable silver barrette. "Almost." She scanned herself in her compact with scrupulous attention. "Do I look alright?"

Gwenog pulled up one of her stockings. "Of course you do. Now let's get in before Avery eats all the lunch and leaves us to starve."

Narcissa primly shut the compact. "Good! I should be ever so ashamed if I looked a fright the day my family came to collect me. You _are_ coming to stay with us, aren't you? I shall be bored out of my mind if you don't."

"Well, since you spearheaded the efforts to buy me a new broom for my birthday-"

"Oh good! I should be quite depressed if bribery stopped working."

Gwenog laughed and the two picked their way through the snow. It was a breathtakingly pretty day, with snow and ice coating Hogwarts, frost hiding the harshness of the stone façade of the castle. Narcissa loved the winter, loved it even as she disliked the horrible necessity of keeping oneself covered (there was really only so much one could do with a black school robe). The wind blew color into her pale cheeks and Narcissa had the nagging worry that, regardless of the potions she applied to her hair, it would get tangled and messy.

She certainly didn't want that, she thought, tugging at the silver wrist buttons of her gloves. _Lucius Malfoy_ was going to be at dinner when they got home! Admittedly, it was because his parents and hers had (ugh) business, but that business could very well be their engagement. Lucius was (dare she think it?) _fond_ of her and it would be a wonderful match all around. Narcissa didn't allow herself to think much on the match itself. Lucius Malfoy filled her with a fluttery, happy feeling that almost overwhelmed the blind panic at being shoved into the center of Wizarding Society.

"Issat Severus Snape?" Gweong asked, shading her eyes. Her dark ponytail whipped around her cheeks.

"Where?"

"Getting pummeled."

Narcissa glanced over towards the lake, where two boys in red and gold Gryffindor scarves shoved a boy in black (his scarf was missing) out onto the lake. "Whenever a Slytherin gets pummeled, it's always Severus Snape."

"The lake isn't solid yet, is it?"Gwenog asked dispassionately. "Since it just froze over yesterday?"

"Oh- oh!" Narcissa said, cutting herself off from saying something unladylike.

"You ought to do something, you're a prefect."

"And a Black." Narcissa, with a put-on show of bravery, handed her bag over to Gwenog. "Ooo! It's the day before the winter hols! _Why _couldn't they just leave him alone?"

She marched over, the snow crunching under the heels of her fashionable, high-heeled black boots. "Do excuse me! Break up all this nonsense!" She reached the edge of the lake and tapped her wand in the palm of her gloved hand. "No fighting, you gits!"

A pale, tired-looking boy in shabby robes and a Gryffindor scarf turned to her. Remus… Lupin, was it? Sirius's friend. "They don't mean any harm."

Narcissa pulled on her robe so that that glittering prefect badge caught the pale winter sunlight. If Lupin was there, Sirius was probably out on the ice, pushing Severus around. "Oh really? I find that hard to believe." She raised her voice. "Twenty points from Gryffindor, each! Get off the ice!"

One of the boys spun around neatly, while the other made an unconscious Severus hang in the air by his ankle.

"Why, hallo fair coz," Sirius said, with an exaggerated bow. "How fares my fair lady? Still as cold as ever?"

Narcissa drew herself up to her full height and glared at them. "I'd be warmer if I wasn't standing outside telling two fully grown wizards what they _ought_ to know already- to whit, that they should not be hexing another student, and that they should not be standing on the lake when the _ice isn't solid_."

Sirius grinned at her. "Come off it Cissy!"

"Don't call me that! Be glad _I_ came upon you before another prefect or the Head Girl did."

"Well, the Head Boy's here…."

The other boy turned around, fluffing up his hair. "Yeah, and _as_ Head Boy, I outrank you _Miss _Narcissa. I say it's perfectly alright for us to punish Severus."

"For doing what?" Narcissa demanded, lifting up her chin.

"For… existing? That about covers it." James Potter turned to Sirius for confirmation.

"Yep," Sirius said, cheerily.

"You are simply _horrid_." Narcissa pointed her wand at her cousin with a flourish. "Let Severus go."

"Cissy!"

"Don't call me that!"

Sirius raised an eyebrow, his expression darkening. "Why? Ashamed to be seen on familiar terms with a blood traitor?"

Narcissa's arm trembled. "Move _aside._ Your childish rebellion has _nothing_ to do with me, _or_ with Severus. I'm warning you!"

"Childish rebellion?" Sirius scowled and looked so terrifyingly dangerous- so much a _Black_, so much like Bellatrix- Narcissa took an involuntary step back. "Cissy, leaving that house was the best thing I have ever done."

"Well, since you haven't done anything at all admirable in your life, I suppose it must be!" Narcissa snapped.

"Better a blood traitor than a murderer- like Bellatrix," Sirius snarled. "Don't think I'm blind! I've seen what kind of company she keeps."

"Don't you- don't you _dare_ say that about my sister!"

"What do they call themselves? Death Eaters? She'll end up in Azkaban and she'll take you with her. I'm not sure if you don't deserve it. Tell me, will you be a Death Eater yourself?"

Narcissa stepped back as if struck, paling completely. "How- how _dare_ you! How _dare _you!" She lifted her wand and furiously thought '_Petrificus totalus!'_ Sirius fell heavily onto the ice, taken completely by surprise. She was so furious the world sharpened and narrowed. She pointed at her cousin and though wordless magic had always been difficult, everything seemed suddenly easy and automatic. She cursed Sirius with everything she could think of that wasn't illegal. Then, Narcissa, trembling with anger but as cold and icy as a snow bank, stepped out onto the ice, her wand level with James Potter's chest.

"What the _hell_ did you do to Sirius?" Potter demanded.

"Let Severus down or I hex you into next week."

"You little-"

"My parents have taught me how to deal with _blood traitors_," Narcissa hissed. "Do you want to see how, _Potter_?"

Potter raised his hands in submission, scowling fiercely. "Fine, fine. Have it your way, Miss Black."

Narcissa turned neatly on her heel, her back to Potter. "_Finite incantatum._"

Severus fell to the ice just as Narcissa heard Potter's wand swish through the air. She wheeled around just a moment too late and skidded back across the ice, the arm of her robe sprouting tentacles, stumbling over a frozen tree root and landing with a painful thump on her back. Her wand flew out of her hand. Narcissa heard the ice crack with a sickening thrill of terror and before she could move or grab or land, she fell through the ice.

The water froze her, sapped her of strength, soaked through the fur lining and black velvet trim of her cloak, sucking her down, trapping her. Her fingers were numb- where was her wand?- and she struggled up desperately, her hands meeting only with ice, and the cold undertow of the lake pulling her down and down and down….

She choked on the water and realized how terrified she was of dying. Narcissa fell into the darkness, still trying desperately to claw her way back up.

When she awoke on shore, she was suddenly, immediately aware of how cold she was. She coughed, spitting out water into her glove and thought of groaning before remembering that a. it was unladylike and b. she was not allowed to.

"Cissy, Cissy, you listening?" Gwenog shook her shoulder.

"It-t's fuh-freezing," Narcissa rasped, trying to prize her eyelids open. She was relatively sure her mascara had frozen together.

"Potter, your cloak."

Potter proved reluctant. "What?"

"_Give me your cloak, Potter_," Gwenog snarled. "If Narcissa dies because you're a git, I swear I will hunt you down and make you a eunuch. You did this just so you wouldn't lose the match against us at beginning of next term, didn't you? God dammit, my only Seeker, _through the ice_!"

"She hexed my best friend!" Potter protested, his voice cracking with uncertainty, with fear.

"And you hexed mine! I'd send you to get Professor Slughorn if you weren't such a moron you'd screw it up! Still with us Cissy?"

"I luh-look a f-f-f-fright," Narcissa said, tears leaking from between her eyelids and scalding her cheeks.

"Come off it. You really look like an ice princess now."

Narcissa laughed before she burst into tears.

"What's going on here?" Professor McGonagall asked, striding over.

"I-" Potter began.

"Cissy tried to get Potter and Black from hexing Snape and Potter hexed her and made her fall through the ice!" Gwenog bellowed. Gwenog wasn't captain of Slytherin's first and only all-female Quiddich team for nothing.

Narcissa felt someone else put a cloak around her and felt herself warm as a spell settled around her. Someone pushed her hair out of her face.

"Ooh, that looks bad," Remus Lupin said. Was he… touching her? Oh God, ew. Narcissa tried to pull back and tell him off but only managed a whimper. "Sorry. I suppose that hurts."

"Where are Snape and Black?"McGonagall demanded.

"I-" Potter tried again.

Gwenog would have none of it and started shouting again. "Snape half- fell in but Potter had knocked him out before Cissy made him let Snape go, so Snape woke up when he hit the water and then he and I pulled Cissy out. Snape ran in to get a Professor."

"Is Black underwater?"

"No, they kicked Sirius to shore," Potter interjected.

"Because our arms were full of a sopping wet Narcissa Black, you git! If you'd done something productive instead of standing there _gaping_ like a dead fish then you'd've shown some of the concern you _pretend_ to have for your friend and finite incantatumed him and pulled him off of the ice! If I was Dumbledore I'd nick your badge for blatant stupidity!"

Narcissa felt herself lifted.

"Miss Black, can you hear me?"

Narcissa thought of several very nasty things to say, but she was too scared and too tired to do anything but fall back on the good manners her parents drilled into her. "Yes, Professor."

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine, Professor, thank you for asking."

"Did you fall through the ice?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Is Miss Jones correct, then?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Entirely correct?"

"Yes, Professor."

Professor McGonagall didn't say anything, but Narcissa felt her disapproval. Narcissa was too tired to tell who it was directed at and felt herself unthawing. It was painful and she started to cry again.

"Are you alright, Miss Black?" Her voice was oddly kind, compassionate. Any second, Narcissa thought giddily, Professor McGonagall was going to ask her if she wanted a biscuit.

"I just wanted to go home!" Narcissa said miserably, and hid her freezing face in her frozen hands.

"I am sorry," Professor McGonagall said, her voice soothing and bitter, like too hot tea without any sugar. "There is more happening today than just a fall into the lake. A group known as the Death Eaters attacked Ministry members. They shut down all methods of travel."

Narcissa forced her frozen fingers into a fist and pressed it against her lips, hoping the water washed her lipstick off. Pureblooded ladies did not cry. They were pleasant or witty, they glittered and glowed. They smiled and if there was something that caused them pain, they hid it.

They did not sob like children.

They did not melt.


	2. Chapter 2

Narcissa curled up in her hospital bed, feeling cold and dead and frozen.

Gwenog plopped down beside her. (Gwenog was so refreshing, so horribly unladylike and snarky. She was a pureblood, so Mother and Father approved of her, and as she did not have a name as renowned as Black, Narcissa's parents found Gwenog a perfect companion.) "I brought your face junk, Cissy. And some of your hair junk, too."

Narcissa, finding it hard to manipulate her hands, took the cosmetics bag from her and snapped open the compact. "I've got a bruise," she remarked.

"We ought to make it look worse before Dumbledore comes."

"Why?"

"Why? Oh Cissy, is this the girl who taught me how to fake cry?"

Severus Snape drew up a chair, grimacing slightly as he moved. "Hello all."

"Are you reasonably alive?" Narcissa asked, trying to put eyeliner back on. "Look up something to make the bruise worse, will you Gwenog?"

Severus sat down gingerly. "Reasonably. I feel a bit like a tenderized steak. You know, this is the second time they've tried to kill someone."

"Second?" Gwenog asked, flipping through a textbook.

"Me in fifth year," Severus said. The bitterness in his voice was shocking, like fluorescent acid spilled over the floor. "Don't expect Dumbledore to kick them out. It's their last year. Besides that, they're Gryffindors."

"And Dumbledore was a Gryffindor," Gweong finished, pulling a face. "Damn it. I'm still not convinced they did this deliberately. We don't have another Seeker."

Narcissa, with her carefully cultivated grace and her slim stature, was a good Seeker and the only girl in Slytherin whose person and whose parents would allow her to play the position. "My parents would be so upset if I didn't play in the next match," Narcissa said shakily. "They're coming down with the Malfoys, and the Malfoys mentioned they wanted their son to have a fit, athletic wife…."

"Is that the only reason your parents allow you to do things, Cissy?" Gwenog asked.

"So that I marry well? Yes. Pretty much. I asked Lucius to drop that he wanted a fit and trim wife, so I could keep with Quiddich. Kind of hi, don't you think?" Narcissa pulled out a tube of lipstick and eyed it critically. "Do you think I should use this shade or a redder one? I do look so dreadfully pale."

"Found it!" Gwenog pulled her wand and pointed it at Narcissa's cheek. Narcissa squeezed her eyes shut as a bruise unfurled across the left side of her face.

Narcissa examined herself in the compact again. "Ooh, I do look ghastly."

"I know! Perfect, isn't it?" Gwenog admired her handiwork with no little satisfaction.

"I can only do up half my face now," Narcissa lamented, with a put-on show of melodrama, flipping up a hand to her forehead in a 'woe is me' sort of gesture. Severus snorted and Gwenog cackled quite gleefully.

"What a tragedy," Severus said drily. "I expect you shall want us to call the Daily Prophet to run the new headline, 'Youngest Black Sister has a Bruise, Cannot Put on Makeup'?"

"With the byline," Gwenog interjected, "of 'Potter-the-Major-Git to Blame'."

"And the lower headline, 'Is Anyone Surprised'?"

Gwenog snorted. "You know Snape, I think I may have misjudged you. You're clever enough. I like your sarcasm."

"I do endeavor to please," Severus replied.

"Miss Black?" called Professor Dumbledore.

Narcissa turned to the doorway clutching her compact. She felt her good spirits ebb immediately, made her smile as awkward as she could, and hastily tried to comb her still-drying hair into her face. "Y-yes, Professor?"

"I met with Mr. Potter-"

"Figures," Severus muttered.

"-Mr. Black, and Mr. Lupin. I should like to hear your side of the story."

"That's actually a surprise," Severus said, soft enough only for Gwenog and Narcissa to hear.

Dumbledore swept down the Hospital Wing and drew up a chair next to Narcissa's bed. Narcissa, who was well aware that hiding something only brought attention to it, hastily combed her hair over the left side of her face, avoiding eye contact. "I- I'm not- my make-up's all off. I'm not fit to be seen…."

"That is quite alright, Miss Black," Dumbledore said amiably. "There is no need to impress anyone here."

"N-no," Narcissa agreed, feeling a legitimate flush of shame that someone in a position of power would see her looking less than perfect. "I suppose not." She kept her eyes on the bedspread.

"Is there something the matter, Miss Black?"

"Cissy- er, Narcissa's just embarrassed, Professor," Gwenog said, picking up for Narcissa easily. "She, er… here."

"No!" Narcissa squeaked as Gwenog pushed Narcissa's hair back.

"Quite the bruise," Dumbledore commented.

Narcissa barely had to fake-cry. The thought of her parents' disapproval automatically made tears come to her eyes. "Oh please, sir, my parents would be furious if they knew I'd been foolish enough to get a bruise just before the Malfoys were coming over. Please, sir, they can't- I'll be in so much trouble and they've been harder on me since Andromeda left, and- and…." She sniffed and fluttered a hand up to wipe her eyes. "And there goes the last of my eyeliner."

"It's not your fault you got a bruise!" Gwenog protested heatedly. Despite herself, Narcissa was impressed. The two of them could probably take to the stage and be very successful at it, too. "_You_ were doing your duty as a prefect. It's not your fault James Potter is a git."

Narcissa pretended to regain her composure, with a discreet sniff for good measure.

Dumbledore appeared to believe her fit of histrionics. He was kind when he spoke, which thoroughly surprised Narcissa. "I won't tell your parents. May I speak privately to Miss Black? I will speak to you two later."

Severus and Gwenog moved out- Severus back to his hospital bed and Gwenog out to wait in the hall.

"Did Madame Pomphrey give you something for that yet?" Dumbledor asked. His unceasing kindness was unnerving. Narcissa didn't know what to do.

Embarrassed, tongue- tied, she stammered, "N-not yet. I was supposed to get warm first."

"That seems a very wise decision. Now, would you be so kind as to tell me what happened?"

"W-well, Gwenog and I were walking back from Herbology to lunch and, and she saw Severus getting shoved about onto the lake. Since I was the only prefect there I went over and told them to stop." Narcissa very carefully continued on with her narrative, looking Dumbledore in the eye and only with difficulty keeping herself from putting a hand to her cheek to hide the bruise. She kept to the truth as much as possible. There was no telling what Potter had said, and if their accounts differed too wildly Narcissa was very sure Dumbledore would side with Potter.

"Mr. Potter said that you hexed Mr. Black?" Dumbledore said gently.

"Y-yes. I'm sorry Professor. I know well enough I'm not supposed to pull my wand on f-family… though I suppose he may not be family again, but, er, sir… he called- he called my sister a- oh, he said she was a murder and that he'd go to Azkaban!" Narcissa burst into tears and was thoroughly ashamed of herself. There was no need to carry on, so. A few tears, a lady-like sniff, a return to decorum- that was the ticket. She struggled vainly for control.

Dumbledore kindly gave her his handkerchief and Narcissa wiped off the remnants of her make-up, disgusted at having wasted so much effort to do it up before the Headmaster came. "S-sorry, Professor. He said she was a- oh, I can't say it! He said _I_ was one too and I'd end up in Azkaban just like Bella! I've never done anything illegal in my life!" Morally ambiguous, yes, but Narcissa hadn't ever done anything to bring disgrace upon herself or her family. The memory of it was still raw and painful. She couldn't glaze over it yet. "Oh, and my _cousin_, too!" And then Narcissa shocked herself by blabbing out more of the truth than she was accustomed to telling. "And I _defended him_ when Aunt Walburga wanted to disown him and I burned my arm trying to keep her from blasting Sirius off the tapestry and I still write to Andromeda even though if mum found out she'd kill-" She clapped her hands over her mouth , suddenly terrified of herself, of her inability to control herself. With real fear, she turned to Dumbledore. "Please. _Please_. You can't tell my parents. You really can't. They'll take me out of Hogwarts and make me marry Malfoy when I'm not ready for it yet. They won't even let me marry Malfoy. They'll make me marry Goyle. Please Professor!"

"I promise," Dumbledore said, taking her outstretched hand and patting it. "Calm yourself Miss Black."

"They're going to kill me. They really are." She took a ragged breath. "I- I'm sorry. I'm trying."

"Shall I get you a Calming Drought?"

Narcissa nodded, inwardly furious at herself. What could have caused her to spill her secrets in such an appalling fashion? She downed the potion Professor Dumbledore gave her without much thought, finished up her part of the story quickly enough, and without emotion.

"Are you feeling alright now, Miss Black?" Again, there was that completely bewildering kindness.

Narcissa gave a small nod. "What are you going to do to Sirius?"

"Do, Miss Black?"

"You ought to punish him severely. If you don't, Aunt Walburga will hunt him down for attacking family and…." No, no more family secrets! Narcissa pressed her lips together and forced herself to look down at her folded hands.

"You don't think he has been punished enough?" The kindness grew grating.

Narcissa looked up sharply. "I-I nearly died, sir. It's a kindness on my part, asking you to punish him instead of leaving him to the family!"

"Perhaps punishment-"

"People have to be punished," Narcissa said, bewildered. "How will they learn if they don't? I was punished each time I used the wrong fork. It made me learn. How will Sirius know not to kill someone if he isn't punished?"

"Currently he looks a bit like a slug, Miss Black."

Narcissa looked down the row of beds and spotted her cousin oozing out over the side of one. "Oh." Then: "I did that?"

"Yes. Though Mr. Potter said Miss Jones added in a few for good measure."

"Oh."

"I think he has been punished quite enough. I would certainly learn my lesson after such a transformation."

Narcissa gaped at him in astonishment.

"Hard to believe you did something like that, Miss Black? Well, we must all learn to control our tempers." Dumbledore patted her on the hand again and moved onto Severus.

When Dumbledore left and Madame Pomphrey finished fussing over her, Narcissa smoothed bruise balm over her cheek and watched the bruise fade in the mirror of her compact. Severus wandered over.

Narcissa drew her legs up under her. "You might as well sit on the bed, Severus." She studied her cheek and then wiped the balm off on the corner of her bed sheet. "He's not going to do anything, is he?" Narcissa began applying foundation, finding some sense of calm in the familiar routine.

"Not a bloody thing," Severus agreed, sitting on the bed and leaning back on his elbows. "He never does."

"People always stick to their Houses. Has anyone told Professor Slughorn?"

"Not to my knowledge."

Narcissa dusted blush over her high cheekbones and rummaged around for her eyeliner again. "Pity, that."

"Yes." Then, awkwardly: "Are you alright?"

"Yes. And you?"

"Better."

Narcissa turned her attentions towards her cosmetics a moment more and, finished, she snapped her compact shut. "How do I look?"

"Perfect as ever," Severus said, and there was something in his tone that made Narcissa stop and look at him. All of a sudden, she realized that she was going to be married soon. The thought terrified her more than she liked to admit. It made her hands shake again so she scowled.

"Severus, do you wash your hair regularly? It's all greasy. Go get your towel. I'm going to wash it."

"What?" Severus asked blankly.

"I need something to do so I'm going to wash your hair. And you're going to let me because I'm Narcissa Black." She said it all pleadingly, aware that she was pretty, aware that she got what she wanted _because _she was pretty. Eyes wide, lower lip stuck out-

Severus huffed out a breath of air. "You are far too good at getting your own way. I ought to say 'no'."

"But you won't?" Narcissa said, extending her thawing hands to him, in a pretty, imploring gesture. "Will you?"

"No," Severus said, albeit grumpily. He stomped over to get his towel and obediently sat in the chair by Narcissa's bedside. Without complaint- because he remained sullenly silent- Severus sat patiently as Narcissa a stream of water from her wand onto his head and began scrubbing at his hair with her pale, cold hands.

If her smile was brittle, her chatter not as self- possessed, her eyes too bright, Severus could not see, and Narcissa was glad of it.

"Come back home with me for Christmas?" Narcissa asked. "It's better than you staying here. I got you a lovely gift and I'll get you another."

"You think you have to bribe me to come with you?" Snape asked.

His voice was so bland and expressionless it terrified Narcissa, who, in her one impetuous moment of the year, flung her arms around his shoulders and rested her forehead against the back of his neck. "Please come. I'm so afraid."

"Of what?" he asked.

"Everything."

"All right then," Severus said.

Narcissa pretended that she was crying, not out of relief, but because she'd gotten shampoo in her eyes. Severus was a good enough friend to pretend it was true as well.


	3. Chapter 3

The Blacks had influence, as did the Malfoys. When they wanted Narcissa Black home for dinner so that the Malfoys could inspect their new daughter-in-law, then terrorists be damned! They would have her there.

Thus, Narcissa and her two school friends came back for winter hols, dressed nicely (Severus in robes that Narcissa and Gwenog and the house elves squabbled over and eventually transfigured into something more presentable and with a great number of buttons, as seams were complicated) for dinner with the Malfoys.

Dinner went very smoothly. Though Narcissa's heart hammered in her throat and her stomach turned with a strange exhilaration and alarm, she managed to speak politely and coherently to the Malfoys and flirt gently with Lucius. While the adults were occupied, she, Gwenog, Severus, and Lucius got into an incredibly fun discussion on the strange things that happened during Quiddich matches, with Severus relating some of his most treasured memories of how he made James Potter drop the Quaffle/ fall off of his broom/ look like the utter moron he was during Gryffindor practice sessions. Narcissa was glad to see Lucius laugh at Severus's dry deliveries; it made Lucius seem more real, made Severus look more at ease, made Narcissa's now quite definite future with Lucius seem less frightening.

Everything seemed quite perfect.

Bellatrix, however, put appearance during the main course, with Rodolphus following after. It was astonishing, Narcissa noted, eyeing her eldest sister, to see that Bellatrix was… happy.

"Did you start without me?" Bellatrix asked lazily, flicking her wand at the table, which expanded and spat out two more chairs. "Rodolphus, put away my cloak. Christmas is a time for _family_, is it not? You ought to have waited."

"Bella," Narcissa's mother said firmly, "that is enough. The Malfoys are here."

Abraxas Malfoy and his wife lifted their glasses and Lucius raised an eyebrow. Narcissa, sitting next to Lucius, favored him with a small smile before her mother cleared her throat again and Narcissa resumed a properly demure attitude.

"And Narcissa's little school friends," Bellatrix said, ignoring their mother entirely. "I know you both, do I not? Gweong Jones and… my, my, the little half- blood Prince. I never thought Narcissa would bring you along- you're far too greasy for her highly developed fashion sense."

"Bella!" Narcissa hissed.

Bellatrix put her fingers to her lips. "Whoopsie. Did I offend the guests?"

"Shut. Up." Severus growled, so low the adults couldn't hear him.

"Bellatrix," Lucius drawled, leaning back in his chair, "as much as you enjoy the spotlight, it is not yours this evening." He reached out and pushed an entirely imaginary strand of hair behind Narcissa's ear. Gwenog and Severus had to stifle laughter behind their napkins as Lucius continued on. "Yes, I know, Bella. How will you bear the deprevation? I dare say you will learn to survive? We must certainly hope so, or else we shall be deprived of your witty repartee and who would wish to miss that?"

Bellatrix seethed with rage and sat on Lucius's other side.

Everyone was very quiet for a moment, as the main course vanished in favor of small glasses of lemon sorbet.

"So," Narcissa's father said, just a bit too brightly, "at Gringott's today we discovered what had happened to one of our missing curse breakers."

"Where were you this evening?" Bellatrix hissed, so shielded by the adults' conversation only Narcissa and Lucius could hear.

"I was not sent for," Lucius replied, equally softly. "Besides, I found someone who may be a good new recruit here."

"Narcissa is too weak."

"No, not your sister."

"The half-blood?"

"Hello Rodolphus," Lucius said pointedly. "How have you been?" He engaged Rodolphus on a deeply boring conversation about Ministry affairs, leaving Narcissa and Bellatrix to their own devices.

Narcissa turned to look at Severus in worry, her sorbet dripping off of her spoon. "Er, Severus? Did Lucius… talk with you at all this evening?"

"Yes." Severus's expression forbid any further questions.

However, after a delicious chocolate gateau and some puddings (which Narcissa didn't sample because her mother told her sweets were going to ruin her figure) Narcissa tried to ask again.

She and Severus and Gwenog had snuck off to 'Narcissa's sitting room', a small, pale blue room with late eighteenth century furniture that no one ever used except Narcissa. Bellatrix dominated Lucius's attention again, which Narcissa noted with equal parts worry and relief, and their parents appeared to be arguing over a piece of parchment that looked suspiciously like some sort of marriage contract. It was very cold in the sitting room; there was frost and ice on the windows, and real icicles hanging off the tree. The fire Narcissa started didn't seem to be doing any good, so they huddled around it and watched their words float in white puffs of air to the high white ceiling.

"What did Lucius talk to you about?" Narcissa asked, tucking her wand into a pocket.

"The future," Severus said. "And its various certainties and uncertainties. It is generally an uncertain thing until you pick your allies."

"Or have them picked for you," Gwenog said, her words coming out in little puffs of white fog that drifted around her face. "Which is why I'm going to _captain_ a Quiddich team. Only thing you can't pick is your family."

"Bellatrix worries me," Narcissa said, taking care to keep her dark blue skirts from wrinkling as she sat down.

"She worries everyone," Gweong informed her, sitting down on the divan beside her.

"Your engagement looked secure enough," Severus drawled, his breath coming in a stream of white vapor.

"I don't want to be married," Narcissa replied miserably, leaning her head on Gwenog's shoulder. She was so tired from everything, from falling into the cold water (still), from her engagement (finalized this evening, probably), from the dinner, from Bellatrix. "I don't want to go mad like Bella. I think she's… not happy with Rodolphus."

"It would be like being married to a house elf," said Snape.

"She's had to find something else," Narcissa said, almost sadly. All three of them knew exactly what she meant. "I think she's in love with _Him_. You know, the Dark Lord. It's positively frightening; I hope she never acts on it. I mean, I don't love Lucius, either, which I know has nothing at all to do with marriage, but if you were in love with your husband it would make not having affairs and tainting the family's blood purity, or going out and… do what Bella does, so much easier. You ever been in love, Gwenog?"

"No. How about you, Severus?"

Severus looked thoughtful and extremely bitter. "Yes. Trust me, it doesn't help anything at all."

"Really?" Narcissa asked, looking at him curiously. "I don't know anyone who's ever been in love except for Andromeda, but I'm not allowed to talk with her or ask her what it feels like." She paused. "And Evans, I think. She's Head Girl and at one of the prefect meetings I heard her tell Alice- you know, that Hufflepuff prefect- that she thinks she's half- in- love with Potter now, which robs me of all respect I ever had for her."

Gwenog laughed in delight, while Severus, stricken, gripped his chair, his face contorted.

"Oh Merlin, Potter? He's the most irritating piss-pot on the face of the planet. Ha, what a laugh, eh Severus?" Gwenog positively hooted with laughter. "Ha ha, Potter with a girlfriend! I bet, for all his bluster, he wouldn't even know where to put anything. I can just imagine it. He'll kisnap Severus, dangle him in the air: 'Hey Evans! Tell me where it goes! Where does it go, Evans? I'll put Severus down if you tell me where it goes.' Ha ha! Never knew how to use his broom anyways."

"What can she see in Potter?" Severus demanded, looking utterly disgusted.

"He's a decent wizard and he's good-looking," Narcissa said doubtfully. "Not very- not like Lucius Malfoy, but the Potters aren't really respectable pure-bloods, and I think the Malfoys have some strange habits to keep their looks in the family. "

"Such as marrying _in _the family?" Gwenog asked snidely.

"Ha, ha Gwenog. _I _am not related to them."

"Will be."

"Oh shut up. I'm not seventeen yet. Why is everyone so determined on shoving me in a white dress before a tufty-haired bloke?"

"Potter?" Severus croaked.

"Potter is tufty- haired," Narcissa agreed, "but, ugh! I don't ever want to see him again after he graduates. Imagine him marrying me and Lucius Malfoy! My parents would have a fit!"

"Severus's still in shock, Cissy," Gwenog said, wiping away her tears of laughter that froze on her fingers. "You okay there?"

The look of utter hatred on Severus's face was astonishing. "What the hell could Evans see in Potter? Why the hell would she ever say she's in love with him? She hates him!"

"Well, not anymore," Narcissa said, sharing a puzzled look with Gwenog before they both looked at Snape.

"She told me so herself," Severus said, half to himself.

"You're friends with Evans?" they both asked.

"Not anymore," Snape said darkly. "Shut it, Jones. We lived in the same neighborhood as children, in Spinner's End." He sunk moodily into his chair, hidden in a storm of teenaged angst. Despite themselves, they had grown close to Severus over the schoolyear, when they snarked at each other into early hours of the morning and made fun of those gits in any tie other than the Slytherin green and silver. Narcissa found that she was strangely unhappy to see Severus this miserable.

Narcissa and Gwenog shared another look before Narcissa tentatively said, "Severus- it… it's probably the Houses, I think. She was bound to go wrong in Gryffindor. Look what happened to Sirius."

"Yeah," Gwenog agreed. "You're not a crap judge of character, you just have highly unrealistic expectations."

"I know it's galling that a friend likes Potter, who generally tries to kill you once a year but… you don't talk to her anymore, do you? She's never around when I see them try and take off your trousers or bash your head in with a rock, so… maybe Potter tells her he's stopped? She seems the sort to be fooled. She may be clever and all, but she _is_ a Mudblood." Narcissa stood, with a little rustle of crinoline, walked over to Severus and touched him on the shoulder. "And she is a Gryffindor."

"Old Godric and Salazar tried to kill each other a fair few times towards the end," said Gwenog, who paid attention in History of Magic class. "So we naturally have to pick up where they left off. Face it Severus. They try to kill us before we kill them and vice versa. Just wait until we smash them next Quiddich match. If that fool of a Gryffindor Seeker gives you trouble, Cissy, start crying. Or seduce him."

"They're not interchangeable."

"Well then you're not doing it correctly. Try and make your chest heave a bit more when you sob."

Severus looked up at them, his expression twisted and bitter with disappointment and despair. "So that's it, then. Slytherins versus Gryffindor always."

"Pretty much, yeah," said Gweong carelessly.

"And we have to choose sides?" Severus asked.

"No, you are chosen," said Narcissa and she squeezed his hand with her own cold, still dead-feeling one. "Come, Severus, it isn't like you fancy Evans or anything. You haven't talked with her in ages, have you?"

"Not since fifth year," Severus said bitterly.

"Well, she's thrown you over for Potter," Gwenog informed him crisply. "So suck it up and realize that she was a stupid Mudblood."

Severus looked up at Narcissa and there was such a look of raw pain on his face that Narcissa felt a flash of a latent maternal instinct. She very quietly put her arms around his shoulders. When she spoke, she made sure Gwenog couldn't hear her. "So you did fancy her. Sorry, Severus. Why not fancy me, instead? I'm prettier. And a pureblood."

"It's not like that," Severus said gruffly. "You can't- it doesn't-you don't control it."

"I've never fancied anyone before; I don't know anything about it."

"It's horrible."

Narccisa leaned her cheek against his for a moment then pulled away. "Sorry, Severus." And she felt a little… melting for him. She felt so dreadfully sorry for Severus, who liked a girl so clearly unworthy (a Mudblood, ugh!) and even though he knew it was wrong, he couldn't stop it. Or so Narcissa thought. She'd never been in love or anything like it, so the whole thing made very little sense to her.

Gwenog sighed. "Done exchanging secret messages?"

"Yes. What does it feel like to fancy someone? I want to know, on case I ever get strange ideas and start fancying Lucius." She tilted her head to the side to contemplate this idea. "I might as well fancy him. We're getting married and he's kissed me several times."

"Was it any good?" Gwenog wanted to know.

"I don't know. I hadn't ever been kissed before. Just like I've never been in love. But the snogging was nice. Sort of… warming."

"Love's a lot worse," Severus said, bitter, dejected, angry, so dark and full of rage Narcissa was half- afraid of him. "It's like you're raw and completely unprotected when that person's around. And it's wonderful sometimes, but most often it's not. It just hurts and it's pain and pleasure at once and you can't ever stop. You almost live on their looks, intoxicated by their presence, with a mind so full of thoughts of that one person with whom you feel so divinely uncomfortable that everything else pales in significance. They are the only fire that can thaw you, whether you wish it or not."

"So…you're all melted?" Narcissa asked, puzzled. "What, all your defenses gone? How very strange. Why would anyone want that?"

"The snogging," Gwenog said, ever- practical. "You ought to write poetry, Severus. Or greeting cards for funerals."

At that moment, Lucius Malfoy opened the door. "Miss Black? I have finally escaped your sister. Might I take a turn around the manor with you?"

"Of course," Narcissa replied automatically, dropping a curtsey. "I should be delighted to accept your invitation." Then, suddenly realizing what she said, she looked at Severus, who sank yet lower in his chair and refused to look at anyone. She really oughtn't to leave him alone with Gwenog….

Lucius caught her look and strode over to Severus. "My dear chap, you seem even more dark and morose than usual." Gwenog scooted over and Lucius sat on the couch, perfectly composed.

Narcissa felt herself blushing as she looked at him in the firelight. Lucius was incredibly handsome, which Narcissa realized and greatly appreciated. He was so _perfect_. His profile, his features, his eyes, his body- beautiful. Narcissa thought of the ancient statues her parents had, that she spent hours looking at when she was younger. The way his hair caught the light made her feel oddly trembley inside, like a… runny pudding. Narcissa frowned slightly, though not enough so that she would one day get wrinkle lines. The metaphor did not seem to be particularly apt. She would ask Severus about it later and perhaps he would come up with something better.

It as a pleasant sort of trembling, though, and Narcissa turned back to the task at hand.

"Potter," Severus spat.

"What has he done?" Lucius asked, suddenly Head Boy Malfoy, out to punish Potter and Sirius for hexing people in the hallways.

"He nearly killed me," Narcissa said serenely. "He's done worse to Severus. He's nearly killed Severus once every year since you left."

Narcissa was extremely pleased when Lucius's eyes narrowed and he suddenly looked dangerous, though he did not move from the couch. He was _elegant_, that was the word, and so incredibly attractive in black. It made him glow palely, like a marble angel, though, at the moment, Lucius looked anything but angelic. Narcissa also appreciated the cut of his robes, which she had seen in a simpler form in her latest issue of _Witch Weekly_'s "What He Should Wear" section. But there was something in the way he just _was,_ in the way he looked, in the way he sat, that made her feel pleasantly strange, as if someone twisted up something deep inside her chest.

"He hurt you, Narcissa?" Lucius asked, looking almost murderous.

"She fell through the ice," Gwenog said. "The git cursed her so she skidded out on the lake and fell through and then he just stood there gawping."

Lucius stood, suddenly and walked over to her. He tipped up her chin with one finger and examined her face, almost posessively, before releasing her chin and brushing her cheek with the tips of his fingers.

Narcissa blushed again, and it wasn't feigned at all. She felt minorly ashamed of herself. "Madame Pomphrey fixed me up. I'm still so cold though." She looked down and flexed her frozen- feeling fingers thoughtfully. Being at home made her feel so young.

"Then I will warm you," Lucius said, in almost a growl.

Narcissa felt her blush increase and did have to admit she felt a good deal warmer. "I look forward to it," Narcissa said faintly, ignoring Gweong's smirk and mouthed, 'snogging!'

In an entirely different tone of voice Lucius asked Severus, "And what did they do to you?"

"Took everything I valued."

"They stole your spells?" Lucius asked, surprised. "Alas, Severus."

"That and more. Potter has taken everything I ever cared about from me." He balled his hand into a fist and whacked the arm of his chair. "My fifth year they almost turned me into a werewolf- I could have died." He let out a short, biter laugh. It sounded strange; Narcissa realized that she had never heard Severus laugh before. "And Dumbledore did absolutely nothing. Nothing!"

Narcissa reached out and stroked his newly washed hair in a motherly sort of fashion. "He was a Gryffindor."

"And Gryffindors stick together," finished Lucius, with a smile that made Narcissa feel as if she were thawing. "But so do Slytherins. I shall… deal with them in due time. Rest assured he will not go unpunished for his transgressions."

He took Narcissa's other hand in his and kissed her palm, making something in the middle of Narcissa's chest melt entirely.

"If we go through their fire," Lucius said, his voice low, "then we come out the stronger for it. We meld together."

"We… what?" Severus asked, standing to look at them.

"You will always belong with us, Severus," Lucius continued on, sliding a hand around Narcissa's waist. She leaned against him, suddenly thinking that marriage might not be so terribly bad after all. "Slytherins do not forget their own." He held out his free arm, his left arm, to Severus. They clasped forearms and Narcissa looked back and forth at the two of them. Severus was almost, almost frightened, yet growing more and more closed off, until Narcissa could not tell what Severus felt at all. Lucius was calm, so calm and cool no one could _ever_ tell what he really thought. Narcissa felt her heart melt for him, for this, for protecting them all, for his ability to hide their concerns and his behind a mask of icy indifference.

Perhaps melting was not so bad after all. They melted only to reform their icy cases again, but their centers were joined.

And Narcissa felt a lifting sort of happiness, a sense that everything was right, in this moment where they thawed and condensed together.

She had not noticed the brief expression of pain that skittered across Lucius's face as Severus grasped his forearm, did not see the strange understanding and determination in Severus's eyes before it flashed away. It was much the same as why she and Gwenog never noticed how some of the seventh years crept into the Common Rooms late at night, occasionally dripping blood, why Lucius did not catch the flashes of sheer terror in Narcissa's eyes when she thought that she might be married in six months, why Gwenog looked studiously aside and forgot most of the conversations she heard at Narcissa's home and filled her head with Quiddich, why, when the entire Potter family, except for James, who was still badly injured, and Lily, who was not touched at all, died in a Death Eater attack, Narcissa Malfoy could write a letter of condolence without batting an eyelash or betraying any sign that anyone would ever have thought the Potters would ever be attacked. Those were secrets hidden so far underneath the defenses, the reserve, the ice that everyone knew them and no one noticed them. They were all the same, after all. All treading now on ice too thin to support them, hoping, hoping it would be enough to protect them from the torrent underneath.


End file.
